I kneel at it

I stand at it

I marvel at it

the four points as destinations

the salvation to seek

the sacrifice given

I wonder at times

how this all came to be

the stories, the histories

as if they by some are considered a myth

a prophecy foretold

a sign it unfolds

the height to the sky

the depths to the behold

the horizons bend

and begin again and again

spinning evolving

moving through space

where do we begin

and where do we end

spiraling within

spiraling outbound

 

a cross

the mystery before me

as I spotted the pair

and decided to take them with me

they traveled so far

even when I was cast aside for a while

the painting of crosses in suitcases

counting the days until I could return home

 

the cross among my things

each time I gazed it

reminding me of my deeds

the conviction within

to know what I did

feeling plagued by my guilt

 

then opportunity arose

he I gave a beautiful gift

the crosses hanging

in the wind they blow

we land one day in Mandeville

amidst the vendors at a boat show

and to my delight

I spy a cross

just like the one from a pair

As luck would have it

now I had a matching set

for my aims were being met

for I knew one day

I had to make things right

even if 30 years had passed

 

She did not remember them

in the bathroom drawer

never missed them

the earrings made

of Earth

 

the cross its secrets

I carried with me

at first it was a comfort

yet then became a reminder

of how fragile truth can be

and how hard it is

to make things right

upon an error made

a consciousness then came alive

never to part

where my sin

became my greatest gift

to acknowledge

the blood to wash us clean

the life we lead

and the stains to be erased

as they are written in stone

the choices we all make

and the gift we dare to receive

 

orthodox or not

a creed to bleed

until we face our deeds

 

he paved the way

for me

and a cross I gave

in appreciation

to be free

 

 

9/8/18